Girl Power
by CrazyAbout
Summary: It's New Year's Eve and Beth has had enough. Who better to help her than Catherine.
1. Chapter 1

**A'N - With 2019 imminent, I decided to take a break from decapitated bodies and perhaps worse, by scribbling a two chapter lighthearted bit of fun. Thanks to all of you that have supported me with your reviews and friendship throughout 2018, and I wish you a Happy and Healthy New Year.**

'I don't know, I haven't really decided yet. Maybe a bit of housework, some washing, but I'm definitely going to bed before midnight with a good book,' had been the sum total of Ruth's suggestions as to how she was planning to spend New Year's Eve, which had prompted an exasperated Beth to take matters into her own hands and contact Harry's daughter. It had been over two months since Harry had returned to the grid after his enforced suspension and he and Ruth had been skirting around each other as though they were trying to avoid a coiled snake, rather than doing what everyone knew they wanted too, if she'd only let him kiss her.

'Lucas was dead, sad, yes of course it was, but it happened in their line of work and it wasn't as though Ruth had really liked him, so why the guilt trip?' Had been Beth's somewhat unfeeling but well-reasoned argument that she'd put to her colleagues over a few drinks in The George, during what she'd described to them as a survival exercise.

'Go for it I say, if you think that you'll still have a job at the end of it?' Had been Dimitri's less than helpful advice. 'Rather you than me, but by all means give it a try, if only to put us all out of our misery,' from Alec and ' as long as you don't expect me to get involved, I'm already in trouble,' from Tariq, had approximated their blessing.

 **Two evenings later after another fraught day on the grid.**

'If they _don't get it on,_ on New Year's Eve, when will they? _'_ A phrase that Beth frequently used when she was describing her multiple sexual experiences to her friends, made Catherine want to remind her that this was her father that she was talking about, as they strolled alongside the Thames in the direction of the restaurant where Beth had booked them a table. Harry had spent a good deal of the time during his enforced exile from his beloved Ruth and Thames House with his daughter, who despite her efforts to get him to open up as to why he'd been quite so down in the dumps, to the point of threatening to quit his job, but not doing so, was now on the verge of finding out. Despite listening to Beth who up until now she'd never met, being overly blunt, to the point where Catherine was wishing she'd just change the subject, she was curious to hear more about this Ruth who was apparently breaking her father's heart and how Beth, with her help, was planning on changing it.

'They're always on the grid hours before any of us arrive, and the thing is we all know why, but for all the good it's doing them they might as well arrive at the same time as normal people. It's awful, it's worse than watching paint dry and believe you me I know what I'm talking about,' Catherine didn't doubt, as Beth moved up through the gears. And don't get me going about the morning briefings, they border on torturous,' and Catherine was tempted to tell her that she wasn't going to. 'He fancies her, she fancies him, so just do it and be done with it is what I say. I know they're older but for heaven's sake, but how difficult can it be?'

Catherine had never and really didn't want to imagine her father in bed with anyone, never mind engrossed and enjoying himself, but Beth seemed hell bent on telling her, as though it should be an every day occurrence. Doing her best to gloss over the image, she was given a short break as Beth indicated that they'd arrived, before it all started again. By the time the wine waiter arrived to take their order, after which they'd consumed two gin and tonics and half a bottle of white wine and were tucking into their main course, Catherine had changed her mind and was well on her way to being convinced.

'Repressed, as bad as each other and having an on and off love affair which has apparently been going on for years,' were just some of the many things that Beth had been spilling the beans about. She'd even described how her father had given her a second chance when she'd messed up, which given the conversation that they were having, Catherine could well imagine happened frequently, even though Beth hadn't gone into specifics. When Beth called the waiter over and ordered herself another drink, which Catherine politely refused on the grounds that she needed to keep a clear head to keep a full grip on what she was hearing, she was well on the way to believing that Ruth was lovely, even if she was a bit different, which in all honesty described her father, and by the time that their coffees arrived, she was fully invested in he and Ruth as Beth kept telling her, _getting it on._

'Well we know the when, we just need to decide on the how and the where?' She told Beth, finally getting a word in edgewise and ordering herself another coffee and at the same time ringing for a taxi to take them back to hers. With only one day to go, they could hardly discuss what Beth was planning, in what Beth had described as the lovely house that Ruth owned and where she apparently rented a room. Besides which, despite being curious to the point of being excited, she wasn't quite ready to run into this Ruth. Not yet anyway.

* * *

In contrast to his daughter who was beginning to see him in a new light, on the grid where two desk lamps were all that were preventing it from being in complete darkness, Harry had been sitting alone in his office in one of his 'if only' moods, gazing across the few metres to where Ruth was sitting, her head bent over a pile of files that as far as he knew were just designed to kill some time. He'd bollocks it up as usual by not trusting her and taking her seriously when she'd told him that Lucas was in trouble and he was paying for it with a silence and politeness that was exhausting in its nothingness.

'It wasn't fair of you to love me,' she'd said, recognising that he did. God almighty what more did he have to do to prove that she was right, in addition to risking his career to save her, apart from taking matters and Ruth into his own hands and to hell with the consequences? Had there ever been a time when he hadn't loved her? If there was, then he certainly couldn't remember it? The pain and the gut - wrenching heartache were testament to that and still he'd come back for more, rather than telling Towers he could stuff his job and find someone else. So even with New Year's Eve approaching and what better time was there to take the woman you were in love with out, the thought of yet another smack in the face was holding him back.

Had he known that the subject of his longings had spent the entire Christmas weekend alone, berating herself for not being brave enough to pick up the phone and ring him, in the hope that he'd forgive her and arrive on her doorstep like a Christmas miracle, he'd have raced across the grid and be done with it, but of course that involved communication, and neither of them were big on that if it crossed into the personal.

She knew he was looking at her, she didn't have to be a genius to know that, she just didn't have the courage to look up and meet his gaze in case she melted, or worse still made a fool of herself and started to cry.

'Get a life for heaven's sake, stop mooning around after Harry and move on,' Beth had said to her, something which she tried her best to ignore and pretend that she hadn't heard. How she or for that matter how Harry felt about each other, was none of Beth's business. It was private it was theirs. With every breath of her being she loved Harry, she always had and love conquered all didn't it, if only you knew how to go about it? How difficult could it be to get up from her desk and walk those few yards across the grid to his door? She did it often enough during the working day, but then that was work or at least on the pretext of work and this wasn't. She just wished he'd just switch off his lamp and go home, but she didn't, because that meant that she wouldn't see him again until after New Year, another wretched holiday that she'd be spending alone, while Beth was out enjoying herself with the thousands of other revellers that flooded into London to enjoy the festivities.

She turned another inconsequential page in the hope that he couldn't read her mind and knew that she was sitting there just so that she could spend a few more precious moments close to him, before spending another heart -breaking evening with nothing but Fidget and a bottle of wine for company.


	2. Chapter 2

Having taken Catherine's advice, on an evening that had run on into the early hours, Beth had rung Malcolm and had enlisted his help.

'A genius fixer, he'll be able to pull strings that we can't,' Catherine had told her, 'and not only that he'll be thrilled, I know he will. He's Dad's best friend so I'm guessing he'll also know Ruth, and providing that he likes her, he'll help, at least I hope so. Let's face it we don't really have any other option, do we?' Had produced the answers that they needed, that only left the how, which they'd practised until Beth had passed out, ending up sleeping on Catherine's sofa.

* * *

'Perhaps I'm just being mean and she really is ill?' Ruth thought, watching as Beth disappeared for the umpteenth time in the direction of the ladies, having seen the caller was Catherine, confirming that the arm twisting had worked and she'd persuaded her father to come out with her for the evening, rather than spend the time on the grid, with a bottle of whisky for company as he'd planned.

She'd already told him that they'd run out of coffee and could he pop out and get another jar. _While she rifled through his wardrobe to find something earth shattering that would curl Ruth's toes,_ she'd kept to herself and was the reason he was missing. Well that, and another misread failing to look up at him by Ruth, when he'd lent over her shoulder in an attempt to break the ice, by asking her how she was, when she'd been listening to a transcript and hadn't heard him.

'How's it going at your end,' Catherine asked her, only to be told that if she could work her magic, not only on her hangover but on a ridiculously stubborn Ruth, whose only excuses were pathetic, in that she didn't have anything to wear and she didn't feel like going out, then she was more than willing to let her give it a go.

With less than eight hours to go before the countdown, by which time all being well, Ruth would have surrendered to Harry's overtures and be in for the night of her life, the atmosphere on the grid was still the same, if not worse, and best avoided unless absolutely necessary. Alec, Dimitri and Tariq had been successfully keeping their distance, by making countless inventive attempts to find reasons to be elsewhere. Harry thought them to be industrious considering that they were building up to the New Year, which in Adam and Zaf's time had always been an excuse for merriment, whereas Beth thought them to be downright traitorous, and fully intended telling them so if they ever came back.

By six she was desperate, as both Harry and Ruth remained glued to their desks, presumably as they did every evening when she was usually long gone. She'd put so much effort into the evening and short of somehow getting Ruth to go into Harry's office and then lock them in there until they surrendered, she was running out of ideas. Added to which she'd made so many visits to the ladies over the course of the day to talk to Catherine, that Harry had been forced to ask her if she was unwell and wanted to go home? She did. She wanted to peel Ruth out of her dowdy work clothes and into what approximated sexy.

'Dad, where are you, we're due to go out in a couple of hours?' was the message that arrived on Harry's phone and put Beth out of her misery and increased Ruth's.

One down one to go thought Beth, as an obviously reluctant Harry stood up and donned his coat. Loss before lust Beth hoped, staying on the side lines and watching her colleagues dancing to what she imagined was the same tune they danced too every evening, as Harry wandered over to Ruth's desk to say goodnight. It was torturous in its beauty, the way that they were looking at each other as he stood there with Ruth seemingly unable to move or say anything, compounded by the fact that Dimitri, Alec and Tariq chose that precise moment to walk back in, causing Harry to clear his throat and make a hasty exit and Ruth to disappear even further into her despair.

 **Three hours later.**

Dressed in grey trousers with a dark red sweater and 'definitely no tie,' Catherine had told him, with a less formal coat than he wore to work, Harry had accepted his fate and was walking with his daughter's arm tucked in his, in the direction of the same restaurant where she and Beth had eaten a few evenings ago. Except that this evening, it was the London Eye that Catherine was heading for, before all things being equal, she'd leave him. Approaching from the opposite direction, Beth had finally persuaded a reluctant Ruth, that anything had to be better than spending New Year's Eve on her own and if they were going to go out, then why not make an effort and dress up.

'Who knows we might even meet someone we like,' had received a definite, 'no thanks.'

'You always used to watch the fireworks on the roof terrace at work, didn't you?' brought the same reaction from Harry, with a soulful, 'that was then,' as she slipped a note into his pocket, designed to be opened later. She was just the side kick in all this, it was Beth that had done all the hard work and she wanted to make sure that her Dad appreciated that. She glanced across at him, stoic and resigned to his fate as he always was. As Dad's go, he was lovely and she so wanted him to be happy.

 _Dad,_

 _You have Beth to thank for this, it was her idea. She'll be staying at mine again tonight, so until I'm invited to meet Ruth, I'll be staying put._

 _Malcolm sends his apologies for breaking into your house, but I'm sure you'll think it worth it._

 _Please don't mess this up Dad, we all know that you love each other._

 _See you next year,_

 _Love you,_

 _Catherine. xx_

The crowd had been building for hours, so it was as well that they'd already planned where Beth and Ruth would be standing, otherwise Catherine would never have been able to spot them. She wanted to take a good look at Ruth before she met her, the woman that her father had been in love with for ever and she'd never known about. Beth had certainly worked her magic if what she'd said was true, although on first sight, she suspected that her Dad would have loved Ruth whatever she'd been wearing. It was a cold evening and guarding herself against the cold, Ruth had turned the collar or her coat up, surrounding it by a bright blue scarf, matching her astonishingly blue eyes. Whatever Catherine had imagined, had she been able to remember what that was, in a bizarre sort of way, as they got nearer and she got a closer look at Ruth, she began to understand why her Dad had held onto his dream for so long.

Hell bent on getting to where Ruth and Beth were standing and then making a quick getaway before the crowd closed in and trapped her, she grabbed her father's hand and pressed on. It was ten minutes before midnight and she and Beth planned to escape to a vantage point to watch the fireworks, away from those who were determined to kiss each other, which she hoped would include her Dad and Ruth. At least tonight, there would be nowhere for them to run.

There was always an however and had it not been for some burly youth who should have known better, bumping into Harry's back and pushing him up hard against Ruth, giving him no option other than to grab her in case she slammed against the railings, then who knows how long it would have taken them to get past anything other than 'Harry' followed by 'Ruth'.

There seemed to be cameras everywhere ready to take a picture as the countdown started, and had either Catherine or Beth been able to see them, then theirs would have been amongst them. But by then they'd made their escape and were hanging onto a monument to give themselves a better vantage point, praying that they'd done the right thing.

Buried in the huge crowd and each other, with no concerns that they'd be recognised and even if they were, it didn't matter, what should have happened as long ago as when Adam and Zaf had been alive and as the fireworks flew into the night sky, Harry kissed Ruth and Ruth kissed Harry. Neither of them knew or cared who'd moved first.

* * *

'I'm really - happy?' suggested Harry, knowing that Ruth was about to say sorry, as they stopped in the centre of the bridge, having walked hand in hand, back in the direction of Harry's car that was parked at Thames House. On impulse he'd brought them a bag of chips to share and he'd been teasing her that she was picking out the largest. Ruth's hands were not only greasy but cold, so he'd blown on them and then plunged them into his pockets, forcing her to face him again so that he could kiss her, which was when she found Catherine's letter.

'Do you, and don't you dare say do I what?' Ruth asked him, seeing Catherine's message that told him that he loved her, her eyes holding his, oblivious to the people that were passing them in both directions on their way home. There was no, unlikely, possibly or probably, there was only certainty, but Harry had been planning on saving that particular declaration until they got home, where another note sat waiting.

 _Harry,_

 _Assuming that you've come to your senses and Ruth's there with you, I don't want to delay you further, other than to say, I couldn't be happier. Miss Bailey was to say the least persuasive and should be congratulated, as should Catherine, although as you can probably guess, it didn't take much persuading to get me involved._

 _I'm currently enjoying a glass of malt in a small hotel on the West Coast of Scotland, overlooking the Isle of Mull. It's like chalk is to cheese compared to London. You should both try it sometime, the hotel that is._

 _My Best Wishes to you both for the New Year._

 _Malcolm._

Alongside Malcolm's note was a bottle of bubbly, a huge bunch of spring flowers and another note that directed them to the fridge. Whether they ate what he'd left for them, which amounted to either a very late supper or breakfast, really wasn't up for debate, despite Harry's sudden lack of decisiveness at finally being able to take what he'd craved for so long. In answer to Ruth's question, yes of course he loved her. He loved her with a passion and gentleness in equal measure, but when he told her, he wanted it to be savoured not rushed, which meant that he didn't need a drink, he needed to stay completely sober.

'I could really do with a cup of tea,' was Ruth's suggestion and marginally eased the tension that had been building, as Harry turned away from her in search of the cups and a packet of biscuits, while a now equally tense Ruth filled the kettle.

It was surprising how quickly you could drink a cup of tea when part of you wanted it to last forever, whilst the other part of you wished you'd never made it. It was just delaying tactics and they both knew it, which was ridiculous given that they'd known each other forever. Not that that was helping.

'I bet Adam and Ros never drank this much tea,' said a desperate Ruth, who in all honesty was beginning to wonder if Harry intended sitting there all night. Harry didn't, but he'd found another thing to panic about. The state of his bedroom and how he'd left it. But then of course Catherine had seen to that as well and she'd put fresh sheets on the bed and hidden the pyjamas that he usually wore.

Please god, don't suggest we wash the cups and saucers, thought Ruth, when Harry finally stood up and said 'shall we?'

Compared to Ruth's bedroom which was always a mishmash of clothes outnumbered by books, Harry's looked like a hotel, right down to the sumptuous bed that stood ready and waiting, as he suggested that she use his en-suite and then get into bed and that he wouldn't be long, he'd use the bathroom.

Tired, coiled like a couple of springs that should they unwind too quickly, could cause some serious damage, a naked Harry walked back in and took the only option open to him, and climbed into bed at breakneck speed, causing Ruth to giggle. Certainly not at what she'd seen, but by the speed at which Harry had moved. The outcome of which, was that everything that should have happened immediately stalled, if only for a few moments. Until hallelujah, across the largest void known to man, hazel held blue and flesh moved towards flesh.

Despite the arrows that were shooting through Harry's body and the primeval urge to take what he'd always wanted, he took the slower and what he thought to be the wiser route and held back, just for a moment. This was Ruth, his forever if the gods were kind to him and as they discussed much later, he hadn't wanted to rush her and it be over too quickly. People rarely got it right the first time, whatever right was and there was always the morning to try again.

'But it's already morning Harry,' Ruth had told him, with a smile on her face that had been hidden for far too long, just wanting an equally satisfied Harry to stop talking and make love to her again.


End file.
